


Tumblr Ficlets: Swan Queen

by wistfulwatcher



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, Sappy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3984808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfulwatcher/pseuds/wistfulwatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of fic odds and ends from tumblr (mostly AUs).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a "take my scarf" au

Bitterly cold air bit into the sensitive skin of Regina’s cheeks as she made her way down the sidewalk. It was shortly after rush-hour on a late January morning, and the streets of Boston were beginning to thin.

She’d had an early morning meeting at a client’s office just a few blocks from her own, and the idea to walk back had seemed much better as she left the lobby.

Regina slowed as she neared the street corner, and slipped one hand from her coat pocket to press the pedestrian crossing button. Her back ached from the cold air, from her contracted muscles and quick strides, and she burrowed her chin down deeper into the soft scarf around her neck.

She was just a block and a half from the warmth of her office, where she could remain until it was time to pick Henry up from school. Pushing her hands back into her pockets, she tucked her arms into her sides.

The screeching of bus tires drew Regina’s attention, and when she looked over she saw a woman standing by the otherwise empty bus stop sign just a few feet away. She was absolutely not dressed for the weather, in a lightweight leather jacket, no gloves, no scarf, and a thin-looking beanie. She was jumping up and down, her hands cupped over her mouth as she blew hot air on them.

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Regina watched the woman attempt to shake her head to the stopped bus, until a tremor wracked her body. The woman looked pathetic, dressed more appropriately for a light fall chill than mid-winter in Boston, and old enough to know better. Hell, she was probably closer to Regina’s age than to the recent-college-grad air she exuded.

Her focus sliding back to the traffic light, Regina saw the bus pull ahead just far enough to block her view before it came to a stop as it caught up to its schedule.

Eyes fluttering shut in irritation, Regina took a few steps toward the bus stop, to see around the large vehicle. As she cleared her sight line, she saw the red “DON’T WALK” light come on, and huffed out a visible breath as cars started to pass by once more.

“I hate when it does that to me,” the woman bit out between chattering lips. “At least once a week, I swear.”

Regina furrowed her brows and couldn’t help but say, “Are you unaware that it is the middle of winter? And 15 degrees?”

Giving a chapped-lip smile, the woman shrugged - or tried to, as much as she could - and crossed her hands over her chest. “Hadn’t noticed,” she said with a shaky voice, and Regina ducked her head down to her chin, getting colder just looking at her.

A little girl came out of the convenience store behind them, then, a too-big thermal cup in her hand. She held it carefully with big gloves - far too big for such tiny hands - and smiled up at the woman. “Thanks for the cocoa,” she said with wide eyes.

“Sure thing, kid,” she forced out even words, and nodded down at the girl. “Get home fast, but be careful. You sure you don’t want me to walk you?”

The little girl shook her head, her large cup jostling dangerously in her grasp. “‘s OK.” She shivered a bit, and trudged down the snowy sidewalk, holding her cup closer to her as she moved.

Regina’s eyes narrowed as she watched the girl that couldn’t be more than a year older than Henry. She wouldn’t dream of letting him roam around the city on her own. “You know that girl? And you’re letting her walk home alone?”

The woman did her best to raise her eyebrows at Regina’s tone, but her dry skin pulled with the movement. “I don’t really know her, no. She rides my bus and is a little too friendly to strangers.” Her teeth chattered and she hopped back and forth a bit; standing in the cold Regina was beginning to feel it, too, the lack of movement making her joints tense further. “Honestly it’s comforting she didn’t take me up on that offer.”

“Mmmm.” Regina pursed her lips as she pictured the girl’s too-big gloves, and a scarf that had been wound around her neck a few more times than it should have been. “She accepted your gloves, though?”

The woman shrugged. “Pretty sure the kid has next to nothing.” Another shiver wracked her body, and Regina felt her stomach drop. Regina’s own knee gave out the tiniest bit as her back contracted in the cold, and she needed to get back to her office, needed the suffocating warmth of the lobby.

The bus let out a loud rumble as it started to pull away, and when she looked, the “WALK” sign was illuminated again.

Eyeing the other woman once more - her skin disgustingly pale - Regina made a quick decison and pulled the ends of her scarf from their place tucked against her chest. “Here,” she breathed out in a cold puff of air. Unraveling the thick scarf from her neck, she folded it over loosely and tugged her gloves off. “You’ll catch your death out here like that,” she raised a brow in distaste to cover up the entirely out of place warmth blossoming with her scarf gone. The cold air prickled sharply into Regina’s skin as she held the items out.

“Hey, I d-don’t need,” the woman stuttered, her teeth chattering, and Regina shook her head.

“I’d rather not miss my opportunity to cross,” Regina held them out a bit further as the sign changed to a flashing red hand and countdown.  _20, 19, 18…_

The woman reached out, pale and certainly dry fingers curling into the fabric of the scarf. “Tha–”

Regina held up her hand as the woman pulled the items toward her, wrapping the scarf around her neck. With a curt nod and one final glance at the woman - it was rather cute, she couldn’t help but note, how her tiny nose poked out over the white fabric - Regina turned, and took long strides across the intersection.

_3, 2, 1._

* * *

_"Miss Mills, there’s a woman here for you.”_

Regina held her office phone against her ear, a pencil held against the document on her desk, keeping her place. “I didn’t have anything on my schedule,” she said evenly, her glasses slipping down her nose obnoxiously as she glanced to her desktop calendar.

_“She says she doesn’t have an appointment, but that she has a scarf to return.”_  Regina set her pencil down gently and sat up straight.

Pulling her glasses from her nose, she set them gently down on her blotter and cleared her throat as recognition dawned. It was the woman from the bus stop, a week or so ago, obviously, but how did she know where to find her?

Cautiously, Regina said, “Send her in,” and set the phone down in its cradle. Regina’s feet shifted beneath her desk, and she scooted back in her chair as she ran a hand over her dress, absentmindedly making herself presentable. She let her features slip into a familiar mask of stoicism, despite the surprise - and, if the small spark she felt was any indication, interest - at the woman finding her to return the items she hadn’t thought twice about.

Well, maybe in passing a time or two over the past week, but Regina had a sneaking suspicion it had less to do with the winter wear, and more to do with the woman that had taken them.

As she set her hands neatly on the arms of her desk chair, the woman she hadn’t even truly met the week before appeared in her doorway, a small bag in her hands. “Uh, hi,” she gave a little wave, and took a few steps into the office. “Do you remember me?”

“Not moments from hypothermia? Barely,” Regina responded, and the woman smiled a bit, walking closer to Regina’s desk.

“Yeah, I pulled through,” she shrugged. “Thanks, by the way.”

Regina nodded. “Well I could hardly let you freeze out there. You were becoming a rather unattractive shade of blue, as I remember.” The woman came to stand directly in front of Regina’s desk, and set the bag down gently in front of her.

“I’ve gotten through worse,” she said, carefully. “But it was a pretty nice thing to do, anyway.”

Regina waited a moment before gesturing to the bag. “My assistant said you had a scarf to return?” The other woman’s cheeks pinked mildly, and she nodded, fingers curling into the bag. “That must have been quite a feat, as I don’t remember giving you my name.” It was a warning as much as a prompt; she was rather leery of how this woman had found her, but curiosity prickled at her, too.

Smirking, the woman shrugged. “You didn’t, but I’m pretty good at finding people.” Opening the bag a big nervously, she spoke down to the desk as she added, “I’m Emma, by the way,” before looking back up to offer a smile.

“And how exactly did you find me, Emma?”

“I saw which way you turned when you crossed the street last week, and figured you couldn’t have been going far if you were willing to give up your stuff,” she gestured to the bag. “And it’s a really expensive scarf, so I know you had to have a good job.” Regina stayed quiet, prompting her to continue. “So, I just started asking around the offices down here,” Emma finished with a close-lipped smile.

Regina’s brows rose at the last bit, and she crossed her legs to lean back in her chair. “You asked around?”

“Yeah. I didn’t get a lot of traction until I added ‘slightly scary’ to the description of gorgeous brunette,” Emma teased, and Regina felt her skin warm, only partly in reference to her somewhat abrasive demeanor.

Ignoring Emma’s compliment, Regina gestured to the bag. “My scarf and gloves?”

Emma pulled the gloves from the bag, and held them out. “Here, and OK, so here’s the thing. I didn’t want to give you your scarf back, smelling like bus and exhaust and I  _may_  have gotten a bit of dirt on it, so I washed it for you first.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed as she sensed where this was going. “You washed my cashmere scarf and then did _not_  put it in the dryer, correct?”

With a sheepish smile, Emma pulled a significantly smaller-than-it-should-be, familiar white scarf from the bag and set it on the desk in front of Regina. “Yeah, I didn’t really realize…” she shifted and cleared her throat. “So, I tried to get you a new one, but they’re a bit out of my price range.”

Regina raised an eyebrow and picked up the small, but very clean, scarf. “I would imagine so,” she murmured, a little too softly to be rude. There was something endearing about the woman before her, that had offered up her own winter wear to a child when she hadn’t had much herself. Something that reminded Regina a bit too strongly of her long-gone Daniel, and of her beautifully kind son. Regina seemed to have a talent for attracting such do-gooders. 

“But,” Emma pulled out another scarf, red like Emma’s too-thin leather jacket. “It’s nothing fancy, but I figure you can take this now, and I’ll replace your other one. In installments.”

Regina bit back a smile, and took the proffered red scarf. It was soft enough, nothing of the caliber she had at home, but clearly a bit more than what the woman would buy herself. “That’s quite alright, dear,” she nodded, and rested her hands on her desk, the scarf held between them. “I wouldn’t want you bursting into my office on a regular basis, and I have plenty of others at home,” she gestured to a scarf hanging beside her coat in the corner of the room.

Emma’s face fell a bit, and she slid her hands into her back pockets. “Oh, yeah. Of course,” she shifted in place. “Well, uh, sorry to bother you. And thanks again.”

An uncomfortable weight settled in Regina’s stomach, one she didn’t care to name, and she sucked her teeth a moment as she ran her thumb over the fabric of the scarf. Before Emma could turn to go, Regina tilted her chin up and leaned back in her chair, pulling the scarf to her lap. “Perhaps you could buy me dinner, instead.”

Regina licked her lips as she felt the weight in her stomach settle deeper, and she took a slow, deep breath as she waited. Emma’s eyes widened slightly, a smile growing on her lips. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’d–I can do that.”

“And then you can consider your debt repaid,” Regina added, realizing how vulnerable her request had made her.

Emma’s smile didn’t fade at her words, and Regina had an unsettling feeling that this woman could develop a nasty habit of being able to read her, given half the chance.

* * *

A knock sounded on her door, and Regina tugged it open gently, pulling it back to see Emma, dressed in a proper winter coat - a relief on a number of levels, most notably not being seen on a date with that red leather monstrosity - and a sheepish smile on her face.

Regina bit back a smile of her own, and pulled on her coat, followed by a soft-enough red scarf.


	2. wrong suitcase au

Regina’s lips curled back into a snarl, the hold music looping back around for the tenth time in as many minutes. It was nearly ten at night after a far too long flight that did nothing to soothe the anxiety she felt about leaving Henry for an entire weekend.

 _“Please stay on the line. Your call is–”_  Regina’s eyes flickered closed as she eased the cellphone from her ear. Switching it to speakerphone, she tossed it to the neatly-made bed and brushed the hair away from her face.

She was tired, emotionally drained, and wanted absolutely nothing more than to slip on pajamas and crawl into the plush hotel bed.

Problem was, those very pajamas - and the rest of her luggage, for that matter - were who-knows-where, and all she had with her was the small carry-on she’d taken on the plane.

In her haste to get out of the disgusting airport, Regina had somehow missed the scuffed corners of the plain black rolling suitcase; a far cry from her own impeccably maintained luggage, and a foolish oversight she was damning herself for now.

The suitcase she’d mistakenly grabbed was now splayed open across the bed, as she’d torn through each item and article of clothing to find something that could identify the rightful owner - and therefore facilitate a swap back. Unfortunately, she’d had very little luck, as there was no identification, no luggage tag, nor anything personal of any kind.

She’d found a few comic books, a badly-beaten sci-fi novel (dime-store, by the looks of the cover), and a small sketch pad. If the suitcase hadn’t also contained a half-dozen women’s shirts and a pair of skinny jeans, Regina would have assumed it to belong to a child Henry’s age.

There had also been a legal pad and a small file of pictures of a rather surly looking man (one who could decidedly  _not_  pull off the jeans Regina had found). The notebook had a good twenty pages filled with barely legible writing, but nothing that had helped her identify the person that owned the suitcase.

 _“Thank you for holding. How may I help you today?”_  Regina looked up from the sketch pad open beside her and reached for the phone quickly.

“Yes, I arrived in Seattle earlier tonight on flight 624 from Boston. It seems I’ve ended up with the wrong luggage and I need to find out who has taken mine.” Regina crossed her legs, bracing herself on the bed with one hand.

_“OK, for that I’m going to need to transfer you to our baggage claim department, just one moment.”_

“Don’t you dare–”

Hold music. Again.

Jaw clenching, Regina flipped it to speakerphone once more and started paging through the sketchpad, hoping to find anything at this point. Only about the first dozen pages of the book had been used, but each corner was covered in its entirety, front and back. Most of the sketches seemed idle, more like doodles to kill time. But the center of a few of the pages held more involved sketches, all incomplete, but showing far more intent than any of the others.

There were sections of landscapes, a few buildings, a dog. They were all immature, clearly done by someone with talent but little skill. One held the half-formed image of a girl’s face. She was relatively young - probably meant to be fifteen or so - and only the right side of her round face had been started. Her nose wasn’t finished, and her upper lip was simply outline, but the image was haunting, somehow, and made something far too akin to regret roil in her belly.

Regina pushed the sketchpad away, suddenly feeling intrusive, and set it beside the comic books. There were a few different issues, some she recognized from Henry’s collection and some he hadn’t read.

A knock sounded on the door, and - grabbing her phone - Regina walked over with sharp steps, the long necklace she wore bouncing against her skin. With a quick look through the peephole, Regina pulled the handle open.

“There’s nothing else I’ll be needing tonight, thank you,” Regina told the hotel staff member sharply, and started to close the door.

A hand shot out to stop her, surprising strength coming from the lean woman in the hall, and Regina stepped back at the pressure. “Yeah, I’m not housekeeping, lady,” the woman eyed her, before holding up Regina’s suitcase. “I think we switched.”

Relief washed through Regina, and she stood up a bit straighter, slightly embarrassed at her assumption. “Oh,” she responded, and stepped back, gesturing into her room. “Please come in.”

The woman walked through the door, and Regina let it fall shut behind her. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of the airline for the past hour, but to no avail. I’m glad one of us thought to include some identification on our luggage.”

The woman raised her brows, and gripped the handle of the suitcase with both hands in front of her. “Yeah, well, this has never been an issue for me, so maybe you should just make sure you grab yours in the first place.”

Regina’s jaw clenched at the brazen words of the stranger, and something sparked in her chest at the thought of really getting into it with this woman. “As I recall this was the only suitcase of this style when I retrieved it, so perhaps the same could be said for you.”

“Well I guess we’ll never know who chose first, then, will we?” the other woman narrowed her eyes.

“It seems that way.” After a moment of pause, Regina held out her hand. “My suitcase?” she prompted.

“Uh, yeah,” she handed it over, and Regina took it, grateful to have her possessions in her hand once more.

“I’ll assume everything is as it was when I packed this bag?” she said, as she set it down on the clear side of the bed and dropped her phone beside it after ending the now-pointless call. Regina flipped it open, breathing an audible sigh of release as she lifted her itinerary folder to find her most comfortable silk pajamas.

When Regina looked up the woman nodded - only looking mildly offended - until her eyes landed on the bed. “Uh, more than I can assume, I guess.” She walked over to the open suitcase, items stacked neatly on the bed but clearly having been sorted through by Regina. The woman’s jaw clenched repeatedly. “You have a good time rifling through all of this?”

Her eyes were dangerous when she looked at Regina, before she started to hurriedly pack her things again. “I was trying to find something with your name,” Regina said coldly, defenses prickling.

“It’s Emma,” she scoffed, and tossed her shirts back into the case in a heap that made Regina cringe - she’d folded those  _nicely_ , unlike the ball they’d been when the woman must have first packed them.

Regina wasn’t sure if it was the emotional exhaustion, or the long day, or if perhaps she found a bit of comfort in a woman that read the same superhero stories as her son. But whatever it was, Regina felt the familiar heaviness of guilt settle in her stomach. And perhaps there was some empathy, too; after all, she’d spent her childhood feeling much like Emma did now.

“I,” she cleared her throat as Emma hastily folded her jeans and tossed them in, too. “I was only doing the logical thing, in trying to find some sort of identification,” she ended up defending. At Emma’s thinned lips, she added, “But I apologize. For invading your privacy.”

Emma looked up, comic books in her hand, and let a long breath out. “Yeah, I get it. It’s just–nevermind.” Regina knew there was more to it, something far deeper that the woman could share. But Regina could also tell she wouldn’t. That this woman was most likely private to a fault, a trait Regina admired.

Emma reached for her sketchbook next, the cover still open, and Regina watched embarrassment color Emma’s cheeks as she shut it and slipped it beneath the pile of shirts.

That familiar and sickening twinge of guilt lingered, and made Regina contemplate pushing about the sketchbook, if only to edge Emma into her own sense of discomfort. Instead, Regina took mercy, and crossed her arms over her chest as she nodded toward the comics. “You and my son seem to have similar interests.”

Emma followed Regina’s sightline to the comic books, and gave Regina a guarded smile. “Yeah? Kid’s got good taste, then.”

“Mmmm.” Emma angled her head a bit, waiting for an explanation to the unimpressed sound. “My son is ten.”

Snorting, Emma continued to put items back in her suitcase. “Well good for him, he’s got quite a few years of comic book reading ahead of him,” Emma smirked, and reached for the comics. She looked at each one, as if remembering which ones she’d brought. The fine hairs on the back of Regina’s neck prickled at the other woman, at her complete nonchalance in the face of Regina’s distaste.

They didn’t know each other, of course, but that had never stopped anyone else from knowing their place.

Emma’s movements slowed, and without looking up at Regina, she said, “I wouldn’t have guessed you had a kid from your stuff.”

Regina’s eyes flickered down to her suitcase before she looked back up at Emma, still staring at her comic books. Eyes narrowing, she curled her fingers further around her waist, crossed arms tightening with the tension. “Excuse me?”

Finally looking up, Emma shrugged. “I had to check your bag, too, to find that folder,” she gestured, before holding one hand up. “I barely opened the middle section before I found it, relax. One of us managed to escape this with our privacy intact,” she said just a touch too darkly.

Ignoring the tone, Regina prompted, “And that quick peek gave you insight into the kind of woman I am? Enough to tell you I’m not a mother?” She practically hissed the last words.

“It’s just, everything is neatly tucked away and organized, your suitcase is pristine. No toys or crayons or whatever.” Emma’s voice got softer as she spoke. “I just, uh, guess I don’t associate anyone that anal with motherhood.”

Tilting her chin up, Regina loosened her grip; what  _idiotic_  criteria. “This is a business trip; my son is at home. And when we do travel I would put such items in my carry-on, of course.” Emma thinned her lips. “I suggest you don’t quit your day job, dear, as you make a rather lackluster detective.”

Emma bit at the inside of her cheek, and stacked her comics before setting them in the suitcase. Placing her free hands on her hips, she popped one leg out and couldn’t suppress a laugh.

“And what, exactly, is so humorous?” Regina’s eyes darkened, unappreciative of being left out of some sort of joke.

Slipping one hand into her back pocket, Emma pulled out her wallet, and pulled a card free. Emma held it out across the bed, and Regina pulled it to her, holding it up under the dim hotel lighting. One brow raising, Regina looked up skeptically. “You’re actually a detective?”

“Private investigator, yeah. But I guess I’m in the wrong line of work,” Emma pursed her lips, and took the card back, fingers brushing over Regina’s skin for the briefest of moments.

“It would seem that way,” Regina agreed. “I suppose that would explain your casefile, of sorts,” she pointed to the notebook and photos, and Emma nodded.

“Yeah. Guy’s a real piece of work, skipped out on his wife and kids after emptying her bank account,” Emma’s face darkened.

The intensity on she saw there was a bit startling, and Regina shifted, uncomfortable. Catching sight of the sketchbook peeking out from a balled up t-shirt, Regina gestured with her chin and asked, “Is that why you have a sketchpad as well? Sketching suspects or witnesses?”

“Oh,” Emma tugged the book out a bit before thinking better of it and covering it back up. “No, just, a, uh, hobby. I’m not good or anything, I just like it. Something to do when I’m bored.”

Regina felt her eyes soften as Emma rambled, her sentences clipped but awkward and rapid. “Mmmm,” she hummed.

Clearing her throat, Emma shifted, and slipped her hands into her pockets. “Mmmm?” she prompted, clearly irritated by Regina’s reaction. “I said I wasn’t good, I–”

“I think you have quite a bit of talent, rather.” Regina said it sharply, purposefully. She wasn’t invested in this woman  - they’d just met, after all - and she was offering her opinion. It was as simple as that.

“Oh.” Emma quieted, the tension in her shoulders easing, and she bit at her lip. “Well, uh, thanks. I guess.” The air was still between them, too silent and too thick. “Good guess with the sketchpad, though. Maybe you should help me catch this guy,” Emma laughed awkwardly, and she balled her hands into fists in the pockets of her jeans.

Regina scoffed, but felt a smirk cross her lips. “From what I’ve seen of your skills, dear, you would be fortunate to have my assistance.”

“That’s quite a claim from a woman whose identity I could have stolen.”

Regina’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Your incredible thoroughness with your itinerary was really helpful for this,” Emma gestured to the suitcases on the bed, “whole situation, but generally speaking, if you’re gonna have a folder chock full of identifying information and receipts, keep it in your carry on at least.”

“Life advice from a woman who can’t manage to fold a shirt?” Regina looked at her haughtily.

Emma smiled dangerously, and zipped her suitcase up before lifting it from the bed. “Have fun at the conference, Ms. Mills. And don’t be late for that early morning flight on Tuesday.”

Regina sucked her teeth and followed Emma to the door. “Point taken, Miss…” she prompted, ready to meet the other woman’s formal address with her own.

“Swan,” she gave a more genuine smile, and held out the hand not carrying her recovered luggage. “I think we did this backwards, you know; exchanging names after we’ve seen one another’s underwear?”

Regina felt heat rise on her cheeks, and she tried not to notice the firm but smooth grip Emma had on her hand. “I thought you hadn’t been through my belongings, Miss Swan?”

Slowly, Emma pulled her hand back, the ghost feeling of her fingers still lingering on the back of Regina’s hand. “Oh, Scout’s honor,” Emma said with a smirk, holding up the incorrect salute.

“Charming, dear,” she sniffed, but felt an uncomfortable sense of authenticity at the thought. “Well, good luck catching your criminal, as I’m certain you’ll need it.”

Emma tugged the door open, and turned, leaning against the hallway-facing side as she pulled her suitcase closer to her. “Uh, your son, does he like X-Men?”

“He does,” Regina clasped her hands in front of her as she watched Emma dig through the bag she’d just put together.

“If he hasn’t read this one you should give it to him. I finished it before we boarded,” she shrugged, and slipped one of the issues out to hand to Regina.

“I believe he would like that,” she took the comic slowly, and held it with both hands. “Thank you.”

Emma shrugged again, and shook her luggage down to zip it back up. “No sweat. If you get bored, maybe you can even give it a read. There’s no age limit on good storytelling, you know.”

“And gratuitous violence, it would seem,” she gestured to the cover image.

“Yeah, that’s like the best part,” she said, straight-faced.

Raising one brow, Regina tilted the comic, examining it closely. “I’m more of a Justice League fan myself, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to branch out,” she smirked, watching as Emma’s eyes narrowed playfully.

Emma’s eyes widened a bit, and she frowned a bit. “Huh, I wouldn’t have guessed that one, either.”

“Perhaps your detection skills need a tune-up, dear.”

“I guess so.” With a nod, Emma looked down at her shoes, the brown boots scuffed. “It was, uh, nice to meet you? Everything considered.”

Regina mulled her words a moment, before reluctantly saying, “You are favorable next to speaking with that airline, I must admit.”

Emma smile widely, and tucked a lock of wavy hair behind her ear. “Wow, I know I’m no great detective, but I have a feeling you don’t give compliments like that every day.”

“Mmmm,” Regina confirmed, “Perhaps you’re not as inept as I’d assumed.”

“Wow, two in a row,” Emma said, lingering.

Licking her lips and feeling the smallest sense of loss, Regina gestured to the hallway. “It’s getting rather late, dear.”

Emma shifted, and slipped her hand into her back pocket. “Yeah, you’re right,” Emma nodded, and started to turn. “Hey, I’m staying at a hotel just down the street. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“It’s a large city, Miss Swan. I believe that would be rather unlikely.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, uh, well goodbye, Regina,” Emma gave a quick, half-hearted smile, and stepped into the hallway.

A few steps away from the door, Regina said softly, “Though you do know my schedule for this weekend. Perhaps I should have been more careful with where I left such information.” Emma paused, her brows raised a bit in interest. “Good  _night_ , Emma.”


	3. parent/teacher au

“Head’s up!” Regina turned at the sound just in time to see a football hurtle by her head, wisps of hair brushing against her cheek with the action.

Instinctively she tightened her grip on Henry’s shoulder, and looked out to find the source of the forceful throw. “Sorry about that!” A young woman ran over, waving one hand apologetically. She slowed as she neared Regina, long blonde curls falling around her shoulders. “Hey, I didn’t hit you, did I?

“You did not,” Regina tilted her chin up a bit. “Though I do believe you tried your best.”

Henry stiffened beside her, and looked up. “Mom,” he nudged her a bit in the side.

“My hair got in my eyes,” the woman defended, pulling her hair back and up into a ponytail as she spoke.

Regina raised a brow, and looked down at the ball on the ground. Lips pursed, she looked back at the woman, appraising her torn jeans and  _Guns ‘n Roses_  T-shirt. “Perhaps you should have done that before you started playing,” she admonished, gesturing to the woman’s action.

“ _Mom_ ,” Henry whispered desperately beside her.

“Yeah, well I didn’t exactly expect to be pulled into a game, you know?” The woman couldn’t be more than 24 - if her sense of appropriate school picnic attire was anything to go by - and Regina wondered if she was the sister of one of Henry’s classmates or -  _heaven forbid_  - a parent.

“Toss it back!” one of the boys shouted from the makeshift football field across the school lawn. The grass was lush, still green in the last days of August, and the grounds were full with parents, teachers, and students, for the annual pre-school year picnic.

“It seems your peers are calling you,” Regina nodded towards the half-dozen middle schoolers that stood waiting for their ball.

The other woman’s lips twisted in a smirk, and she popped one hip forward, and slid her hands into her back pockets. “I take it you’re Henry’s mom?” she asked, giving Henry a truer smile.

“Miss S., you coming?” a girl yelled over, her hands held up in an exaggerated shrug.

Regina’s eyes narrowed. “Miss Swan?” she questioned, and the woman nodded. “You’re Henry’s homeroom teacher?”

“Sure am,” she leaned forward and picked up the football. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around…”

“Regina,” she shifted awkwardly on the grass, heels sinking in the loose soil, and licked her lips in discomfort. “I didn’t know–”

“I better get back to the team. You wanna join in, kid?” Miss S. asked Henry, before looking back at Regina. “If it’s cool with your mom, that is.”

Looking down at Henry, Regina gave him a tight smile and nodded, dropping her hand from his shoulder, and pulling her arms around her waist. “Be careful,” she warned, and Henry smiled brilliantly before taking off toward his classmates.

“You can join too, you know,” Emma pointed down with the football. “If you lose the heels, that is.”

“I believe I’ll sit this one out, Miss Swan.”

“You can call me Emma,” she switched the football to her other hand and held out her right for Regina to shake.

She did so reluctantly. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan. Henry is very excited to be in your class,” she said politely, and felt her breath quicken the tiniest amount as Emma’s sun-warmed hand slid against her own.

“I’ve heard he’s a great kid,” she propped the ball between her forearm and hip. “Joys of a small school, you know, I get a good bit of intel from the sixth grade teachers. On the kids and their parents,” she added playfully, but Regina felt her face darken a bit.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, heard you made Ms. Blanchard cry last year.” Regina did her best to suppress the smirk she felt twitching at the corners of her mouth. “Oh my god, you did.”

“I simply stopped by one day to discuss some inappropriate reading materials she’d given my son and the woman began blubbering. It was hardly the event it seems she’s made it out to be.”

Emma snorted. “OK, I don’t know either of you all that well, but I’m willing to bet the truth is somewhere closer to the middle of those stories.”

There was silence a moment, and more calls for the teacher carried across the lawn. “I believe you still have their ball, Miss Swan.”

“Huh? Oh,” she looked down, and started to turn towards the kids before pausing. “Hey, uh, just so you know, I’m not nearly as delicate as Mary Margaret. You’ll have to dig a bit deeper if you wanna maintain your reputation.” She said, and - to Regina’s embarassment -  _winked_.

Clearing her throat, Regina tightened her grip on her purse strap, her stomach suddenly turning over not-so-unpleasantly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

“Miss Swan, may I have a word?” Regina walked into Emma’s room without pause, and came to stand in front of her desk. The weather had turned far too cold for late September, and Regina wore a long coat with a white scarf tucked beneath her chin.

“Sounds like I don’t have a choice,” Emma murmured, loud enough for Regina to hear but soft enough for her to deny. Looking up from the papers she was grading, Emma narrowed her eyes and tilted her head a bit. “Regina, right? Henry’s mom?”

“Yes. Henry isn’t being challenged,” Regina got straight to the point, and clasped her hands in front of her.

Emma bit the inside of her cheek for a moment and sized Regina up. “He’s a smart kid.”

“Yes, and all the more reason for him to be  _challenged_ ,” she repeated, slower, so the teacher would understand.

Emma smirked up at her from behind her desk. “You know, middle school is supposed to be about things beyond school work.”

Regina’s eyes widened slightly as she scoffed. “Says his teacher?”

Biting back a smile, Emma pushed away from her desk to look up at Regina better. Leaning one arm on the edge of her desk she bounced the pen she held between her fingers. “I just mean, maybe it’s OK if he isn’t quite so challenged this year, and instead focuses on making some friends.”

“And just what exactly are you implying?” Regina asked dangerously.

Sucking in a breath, Emma stopped bouncing and set the pen down. “I’m not implying anything, alright? He’s a great kid, he’s just, I don’t know, a bit of a loner.”

“Henry has friends,” Regina defended her son, despite the unease that had settled in her stomach. Henrywas a bit shy, preferring to stay at home and read - a fact that she was rather happy with, to be honest.

“OK,” Emma nodded, and leaned into her desk again. “I’ll tell you what, there were a number of books I had to cut from my lesson plans for time. How about you give Henry this list,” she pulled a scrap piece of paper out of her drawer, “and tell him to pick the one that sounds the most interesting. Let him read it on his own time frame, and when he finishes it we can have a chat about it. If it works, we’ll do it again.”

She fell silent as she scribbled a list down. Once finished, she dropped the pen and held up the paper. “Sound like a plan?” Emma asked. Taking the paper, Regina noted the messy handwriting.

“Perhaps my son is being challenge, Miss Swan, having to decipher your penmanship.” Emma leaned back in her chair again, and Regina let out a small breath. “Yes, thank you. I think Henry may enjoy this.” Regina folded the paper up gently and slipped it into the front pocket of her purse.

“Sure thing,” Emma smiled, and stared at her for a moment too long. As if realizing what she’d been doing, Emma tipped forward, and tugged a small stack of papers toward her. “I uh, should,” and gestured to the homework.

“Yes, I suppose you should.” Starting to turn, Regina hesitated, and tapped the front of her purse. “I appreciate it, Ms. Swan. As will my son,” she said before she walked back out of the classroom.

* * *

Regina’s fingers curled over her knees as she shifted uncomfortably on the the padded bus seat. The backs of her thighs stuck unpleasantly against the brown plastic, and a grimace settled deep on her face.

Eyes flicking to the large rear-view mirror above the bus driver, Regina could see her son far at the back of the bus, turned around in his own seat to talk to a small group of his classmates. It was a bittersweet sight, her son getting along with children his own age; he was supposed to, of course, but it was still rather difficult seeing him need her less.

“Michael, I think we’re good to go,” Emma said to their bus driver as she bounded up the small stairs. She had a clipboard in one hand, and she scanned the rows a moment before confirming with him and starting to make her way down the aisle.

And it didn’t help that it meant  _that woman_  had been right.

Shifting slightly to angle her body, Regina kept her eyes trained ahead, unwilling to draw Emma’s attention.

“Hey, Regina.” Her eyes shut tightly in frustration. “Can I?” Taking a deep breath she opened her eyes and looked up at Emma, standing in the aisle and leaning her hand on the back of the seat in front of her. Emma gestured around vaguely and nodded to the empty seat. “Looks like everywhere else is full up,” she shrugged, and Regina let out a sigh.

“Very well.” With a pointed look she waited for Emma to take a step back so she could stand, and let Emma to the window seat.

“You could’ve just scooted in, you know,” she pointed out, flopping herself across the long seat until she let herself drop down.

Regina hesitated a moment before sitting down where she’d been. She didn’t comment; she had no intention of placing herself between a stranger and an escape window she was certain would not accommodate adult-sized hips. “I prefer the aisle,” she offered, finally, and crossed her ankles.

“I get that,” Emma said empathetically, and Regina looked at her out of the side of her eye, one brow raising on reflex. “It’s a bit stifling,” she squirmed to make her point and Regina felt her shoulders relax a bit.

The bus started to move, and Regina felt herself lurch forward on the lumpy seat, her hands flying up to brace herself. Beside her, Emma snorted, and Regina turned her head sharply to glare.

“Takes some getting used to again, huh?” Emma smiled, and Regina let her hands fall to rest on the purse in her lap. Regina didn’t respond and they fell silent, as the loud roaring of childrens’ laughter drifted up from the seats behind them.

She tried not to monitor Henry, really, but without anything else to do Regina found herself looking up at that rear-view mirror, and wincing as Henry bounced around in his seat. “I was kinda surprised when you signed up to volunteer,” Emma’s voice pulled her attention.

“Excuse me?”

“Henry’s mentioned that you’re pretty busy with work.” Regina’s eyes narrowed, and Emma lifted a hand up. “Hey, not an indictment, just surprised you could get away.”

“Hmm,” Regina sniffed. “I like to be a part of his education whenever I’m able.” She pursed her lips and turned her head to look at Emma, noting the genuine curiosity on her face, the complete lack of judgement. “Which is unfortunately not as much as I would hope.”

Emma nodded, and smiled reassuringly. “Henry talks about you a lot, you know. Single mother-slash-Mayor has got to be difficult to balance.”

“I manage,” Regina said, carefully. “Or does Henry not share that same opinion?”

Leaning back against the bus seat, Emma propped one knee against the back and turned a bit more toward Regina. “Well, from what I’ve read in his personal essays,” Emma hesitated, and Regina felt her blood run cold. “He is of the opinion that you hung the moon.”

Regina melted, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she smiled back, and when she shifted again the bus hit a bump. Emma fell forward a bit, the rough denim of her thigh brushing against the side of Regina’s knee. Clearing her throat, Emma scooted back and leaned her head against the window. “Possibly because it didn’t clean its room like it was supposed to or it left its shoes on the stairs  _again_.” Emma fought back a smile, losing as she explained, “I also hear you’re incredibly strict, Madam Mayor.”

Eyes flickering to the mirror to see Henry and his friends bouncing around again, Regina waved a hand behind her dismissively. “Yes, well we can’t all be as permissive as you seem to be,” and Emma looked over the seats to the excitement going on.

“Yo!” she yelled as she dropped her clipboard on Regina’s lap and turned to lean over the back of her seat. Regina suppressed a blush as Emma’s backside entered her field of vision, and she pointedly resumed watching the boys settle down in the mirror. “We’re on a field trip, guys, don’t make me come back there and be a teacher, OK? Nick, take a seat, dude.”

The boys dispersed and Emma turned back around, flopping down against the side of the bus, much as the seventh graders had. “I swear, sometimes…”

“I can’t imagine where they get it,” Regina raised a brow, and handed Emma’s clipboard back. “Perhaps Henry meeting with you for your book discussions is not such a good idea after all.”

Emma pouted dramatically. “What? No way, you asked for this and the kid’s been growing on me.”

Ignoring her petulance, Regina pulled at the hem of her skirt. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how have your discussions been? Henry seems to be enjoying the readings.”

Emma stretched, and slid one hand to the back of the seat, her fingers resting dangerously close to Regina’s hair. “Great, actually. Kid reads faster than I can keep up.” She held up her other hand, “You’re unsurprised, I’m sure. But yeah, I think he likes them. And it’s nice to know his opinions are his own, and not just some regurgitation of Cliff’s Notes to pass a test.”

“Yes, he’s come to me with some of his analysis, and I must say, I’m more than a little anxious for the day I won’t be able to understand his conclusions.” She smiled fondly at the thought of her son’s intelligence.

“I have a feeling that day’s pretty far off,” Emma said, almost shyly, and Regina could have sworn she felt Emma’s fingers brush through her hair before they slipped from the back of the seat. “So, you excited for the planetarium?”

Regina exhaled slowly, unable to shake the phantom feeling. “As much as one could be, dear.”

* * *

“You know this is a school dance, not a board meeting, right?”

Regina turned at the familiar voice, and held tighter to the empty glass in her hand. “Thank you Ms. Swan, I hadn’t noticed.”

She’d seen the teacher more and more over the past few months, but never quite like this; Emma was wearing a dark pink dress, a far cry from the ragged jeans and sweaters she usually wore.

She looked gorgeous, Regina was irritated to note, the simple dress clinging almost inappropriately to Emma’s lean body. With a small gesture to the decorative snowflakes around the gymnasium, Regina said, “And perhaps you were unaware that it was the middle of December, Miss Swan. A bit cool for such a small dress.”

Emma said nothing, simply smirked as she held out a full glass of punch to Regina. “You look nice, too,” Regina took the glass, their fingers brushing. “If a bit professional.” Regina’s own dress was one she wore often enough to work; taupe, with an asymmetrical neckline and belted waist.

“Yes, well I was unaware the dress code was the same as the bars downtown,” she raised the punch glass and took a sip of the too-sweet beverage. With a grimace, she set the glass into her empty one, and lowered it to her side.

Emma drank from her own glass, and looked out at the makeshift dance floor, where groups of girls danced in little circles. Her hair hung down in loose curls over her shoulders - a change from her usual ponytail or loose waves that must have been natural - and Regina watched as one curl fell loose from the others, bouncing against Emma’s cheek as she turned her head.

“You do seem awfully dressed up, Miss Swan, perhaps you’re hoping for a dance yourself?” When Emma looked over, Regina nodded her head toward a few of the male faculty standing on the other side of the gym.

Emma snorted, and took another drink. “Yeah,” she swallowed. “But they’re not my type,” she added, and in the faint light Regina couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as though the other woman was blushing.

“Oh? And what is your type?” Emma looked at her pointedly, and Regina felt her back stiffen in recognition. “ _Oh_.”

Her lips parted as she felt her breath quicken, and when Emma put her glass down on the table behind them, Regina’s fingers tightened on her own. “Look, if I’m wrong or–” Emma cut herself off, and she took a step closer, heel making a high-pitched squeak as she moved awkwardly. Taking a deep breath she punctuated her words with a low hand movement, and looked at Regina nervously. “Do you want to dance?”

Regina licked her lips slowly, her fingers shifting on her cup until she gripped the rim. “I suppose that would be alright,” she found herself answering slowly. She set her glass on the table beside Emma’s, before walking purposefully over toward an empty corner of the room. It was darker, but still felt far too exposed.

Emma came to stand in front of her, and before either could second guess themselves, Emma set one hand on the small of Regina’s back and tugged her closer. “Miss Swan,” Regina warned, a bit startled, and set one hand on Emma’s shoulder.

With her heels, Emma was just a few inches taller than Regina, close enough that she could still feel Emma’s hot breath on her cheek as Emma’s fingers curled further into the dip of her spine. “Is this–” Regina started to ask, looking around them. It felt daring, and inappropriate, and Regina felt heat rise to her cheeks.

“It would be rude not to ask you to dance after volunteering your time, right?” she shrugged, smiling encouragingly at Regina. “I should probably tell you, though, I kinda suck at dancing,” she placed her free hand on Regina’s upper back, hand splayed out.

Quirking her brow, Regina shifted Emma’s hand down to rest beside the other on her lower back. “I’m so glad you asked me to do just that, then,” she said dryly, looking put out even as she slid her other hand to Emma’s bare shoulder. Her skin was as heated as Regina’s felt, and it was encouraging, somehow.

Emma started to sway, her palms resting heavily on Regina’s hips. The music was wrong, too fast for such intimate dancing but too slow to have started out not pressed against one another. “So, uh, Henry still enjoying the readings? He hasn’t been by for a discussion lately.”

Shoulders relaxing slightly, Regina looked over toward her son, talking animatedly with his friends across the gym. “He’s reading  _Holes_ right now, but he’s been visiting friends more often on the weekends.”

“It’s a great book, but I gotta say I’m glad he’s spending time with friends.”

“Mmmm,” Regina murmured in agreement, and turned back to Emma.

“Was that an agreement, Regina?” Regina’s eyes narrowed. “Oh man, you know I was right, don’t you?” She waggled her eyebrows playfully.

“Nonsense,” she scoffed, and stepped closer, her palms sliding from Emma’s skin until she could rest her forearms on the broad expanse of Emma’s shoulders. Her hands dangled behind Emma’s head, fingers tangling with her curls as they swayed. “His literary discussions have been helping him immensely. He’d needed the challenge, as I’d pointed out.”

“Oh yeah?” Emma smiled, and Regina couldn’t help but look down at her mouth, the slightly crooked grin making her heart pound, her tongue dry. “I guess we were both right, then.”

“It would seem so,” Regina agreed. The music changed, falling into a slower, smoother beat, and Emma tugged them closer still, until there was barely a breath between them,

The air grew thick around them, and Regina closed her eyes, letting Emma press their temples together. Her hand slipped across her back, holding Regina close as they swayed, and her fingers ghosted over the curve of her waist.

“You’ve sure been taking on a lot of chaperone responsibilities lately, Madam Mayor. Any particular reason?” The words were whispered low in Regina’s ear, and she couldn’t help but suck in a breath at the feeling.

“My son, of course,” she managed to say without a waver in her voice.

“Of course,” Emma replied, just as the music changed again, picking up speed.

Regina stilled before stepping back. She cleared her throat and stood up straighter, running her hands nervously over the skirt of her dress. “Thank you, Miss Swan, that was–”

“It’s Emma,” she reached out to tug her back, one gentle hand wrapping around her wrist. “And you’re not quitting yet, are you?” Regina let Emma lead her back, into a faster, more playful step, and when Emma spun her out, she couldn’t help but smile at the light feeling.

“Miss Swan,” she whispered harshly, pressing her palms against Emma’s shoulders.

“ _Emma_ ,” she corrected again, and gently dipped Regina down. One leg flew up automatically to keep her balance, and Regina’s fingers curled into the strong muscles of Emma’s back.

Loud yelling and laughter drew their attention suddenly, and both looked over at the commotion. All eyes were on the center of the dance floor, where a number of students had started some sort of dance-off, as the spectators cheered.

“Miss Swan?” Regina prompted as she looked back to the other woman, still holding her in her arms.

“ _Emma_ ,” she repeated once more, eyes darting between Regina’s as she waited.

“Let me up,  _Emma_ ,” Regina conceded, and the moment Emma did she dipped the other woman right back. Emma’s head tilted back with laughter, and as soon as Regina’s arms began to tremble with the strain of Emma’s weight, she leaned up and kissed her.

It was quick, and playful, and Regina felt heat blossom from her chest. Emma stood upright as Regina glanced back at the students, still absorbed by the entertainment on the dance floor. “Oh god, Regina, I’m sorry, that was inappropriate,” her brows furrowed as she looked at Regina and shifted away from her.

“Yes, Miss Swan, it was,” Regina pursed her lips and turned toward the center of the gym, standing beside Emma. After a moment, Regina reached out slowly, her knuckles brushing against Emma’s before she crossed their wrists. The pads of her fingers slipped over Emma’s, their fingers slotting together as Regina took her hand gently, her meaning unmistakable.

Looking at Emma out of the corner of her eye, Regina gestured to the children. “Perhaps we should rejoin the students, Emma,” she emphasized, lips parting into a smirk. “Or they won’t have me as a chaperone at the next school trip.”


	4. celebrity/bodyguard au

“…and the shoot is at ten, so I’ll need to be picked up at 9:15 tomorrow morning,” Regina instructed the driver as he opened the trunk. Emma stifled a yawn and reached in for her army duffel, swinging it over her shoulder with ease.

“Yes, Ms. Mills,” Archie smiled far too kindly at Regina for the laundry list of instructions he’d just been given, and tilted the brim of his hat. “Would you like help with these?” he gestured to the rolling suitcase and weekend bag.

“Thank you, Mr. Hopper, but I believe Miss Swan is more than capable.”

“Uh, you know I’m not just here to lug around your baggage, right?” Regina’s eyes narrowed, but Emma stood her ground. “I was hired to protect you, not see to it that your Louis Vuittons didn’t get scuffed.”

Regina pursed her lips and slipped one hand to her hip. “This is Prada. And as I am the one that hired you, I am aware your job description carried a bullet reading  _other duties as seen fit_ , did it not?”

Archie shifted between them, uncomfortable between the two stubborn women. “It’s no trouble for me to–”

“Come along, Miss Swan. I have had a rather long day and am in no mood to discuss this further,” she pulled her weekend bag from the trunk and turned on her heel. It was a concession, one Emma hadn’t expected, and at midnight after a day of doing press junket crap it was a damn near miracle.

Emma tugged the suitcase out of the trunk and smiled weakly at Archie before she followed Regina into the overpriced hotel. The lobby gleamed, and Regina nodded to the concierge as she passed by the front desk for the elevators.

“Uh, when did you check in?” Emma asked curiously, and couldn’t help but catch the way the concierge was eyeing Regina with a wolfish smirk. 

“Kathyrn brought my key over during the last interview,” Regina’s jaw clenched as she stifled a yawn. “You’re awfully unobservent for a bodyguard.”

Emma rolled her eyes. She hadn’t been doing this long - for Regina or any star - but she had been around Regina enough the last few months to know that it was better to let silence fall between them than it was to engage her after such a long day.

The elevator dinged to let them on, and Regina slid her card through to take them to the penthouse. The ride was far too long - did the hotel really need sixty floors? - and Emma’s back was killing her. She was desperately in need of a hot shower and a soft bed.

“I’m going to take a bath,” Regina said as Emma stepped in front of her to do a sweep of the floor.  _Or not._

“Give me a minute to do a sweep, Regina,” she slipped her bag to the floor as the elevator closed, and set Regina’s suitcase - very gently - against the wall. Hand going to the small gun that sat beneath her jacket in a shoulder holster, Emma began to clear the space. As she opened the doors to both bedrooms and the bathroom, Regina grew increasingly impatient and her sighs grew increasingly louder.

“It’s clear,” Emma said, re-holstering her weapon before she slid her leather coat off.

“Of course it is,” Regina slipped her own coat off, baring the royal blue wrap dress she’d worn to her interviews; just one more dress that Emma found herself unable to take her eyes off of.

Because it was the dress that she found so appealing, surely.

“Uh, I’m here for your safety. Doing all of this isn’t just fun for me, you know.”

“You’re here because Kathryn wouldn’t take  _I don’t need a bodyguard_  for an answer any longer. Do not for a moment think I truly need you to protect me, Miss Swan.”

Emma flopped down on the couch that sat in the open living room area, and flipped on the TV. “Weren’t you going to take a bath?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Mmmm,” Regina sighed in acknowledgement, and Emma heard the gentle slamming of the bathroom door.

Emma shrugged her coat and holster off, draping them over the back of the couch. Relaxing into the seat cushions that were almost as lush as she’d been hoping, Emma let her mind wander as she decompressed. She flipped the channels idly, and before she knew it nearly an hour had passed.

Bed was looking more and more the better option despite the desire for a hot shower. When five more minutes had passed without Regina leaving the bathroom, Emma resigned herself to crashing, and began her routine to secure the hotel room before bed.

As Emma passed by the bathroom, a loud crash and what sounded shockingly close to a shriek came muffled through the door.

Emma’s feet stilled, her fingers flying automatically to the shoulder holster she was no longer wearing. “Regina?” she prompted, and leaned closer to the door.

There was no answer. “Hey, Regina I heard a crash, open up.”

A short pause, and then: “It’s nothing, Miss Swan,” Regina assured, in her familiar even tone. Only it sounded like something awfully close to fear accompanying the words.

"Let me in, Regina. Or I’ll break this door.” Her fingers flexed over her bare side, all senses on alert as her eyes darted around the room.

“Do not-”

“One…”

“Miss Swan, if you think-”

“Two…”

“I will see to it that you never-”

“Three!”

She waited a moment and sure enough Regina swung the door open with far too much force. Regina stood about a foot back from the frame of the door, one hand on the door itself, the other propped on her hip.

A plush cotton robe covered her, the sash tied in a large knot at her waist, the thick material and long sleeves making her look even smaller than usual. Her feet were bare, and her hair was pulled up into a messy clip, the shortest locks having slipped free to cling wetly to her neck. It was the most casual Emma had ever seen her, even after traveling with her almost daily for the past few months.

Emma cleared her throat - thick from the billowing steam, obviously - and held out a palm as she stepped into the bathroom. “I heard a noise,” she repeated, and looked around in search of the source.

“I’m fine, as you can tell. Now the next time you decide to ignore my orders you’ll find yourself in need of a new job, do you understand?” Regina’s fingers tightened on the door as it swayed away from her. Regina compensated for it subtly, taking a quick step on the ball of her right foot.

Emma’s eyes narrowed. “You hurt your ankle,” she nodded to the foot she was favoring.

“I assure you it’s nothing.”

“Oh hell no,” Emma scoffed, and stepped into the large bathroom fully. The tub was still full, candles flickering in a few corners of the frame and casting shadows in the dim light of the room. It would have been romantic, were she not about to go six-rounds with Regina, in all likelihood. “I’m not taking you to that shoot with a busted ankle, Kathryn will kill me.”

“All the better,” she said with a small snarl, and held out her arm. “I’m going to bed, see to it that–” Regina cut herself off with a hiss, her balance faltering as she put too much pressure on her injury.

“Woah, hold it,” Emma ducked forward, slipping an arm beneath Regina’s back and tugging her hip to bump against her own. “Let’s sit you down a moment,” she bared her teeth, turning Regina around until she could sit on a candle-free corner of the bathtub.

Once Regina was seated, Emma crouched down on the floor, and gestured to the slightly swollen ankle. “May I?”

Pursing her lips, Regina mulled it over before licking her lips self consciously and bracing herself with both hands on the ledge beside her hips. “I don’t recall doctor being in that job description, Miss Swan.”

Sliding her fingertips gently over the swollen flesh, Emma cupped Regina’s heel and lifted her foot until she could set it down on her knee, careful to avoid bumping it more than she needed to. With a smirk, Emma looked up at Regina, applying the smallest amount of pressure to her skin. “Pretty sure this would qualify under  _other duties as seen fit_.”

“Hmm,” Regina dropped it, but winced a bit at stronger pressure. “Do you have any clue what you’re doing?”

“I did a tour as a combat medic in the Army,” she explained with a shrug, and leaned away from Regina carefully, opening the cabinet drawers beside her until she found a first-aid kit. “I couldn’t operate on you or anything, but I can patch a bullet wound up pretty good. And wrap an ankle.”

“Lovely,” Regina said drolly, though she snuck a quick glance at Emma from under her lashes. “It doesn’t feel very painful,” she flexed her foot a bit in demonstration, and Emma had the briefest, most ridiculous thought that Regina might have the cutest toes she’d ever seen.

“Huh?” Emma looked up from the kit open beside her and pulled out an ace bandage. “Oh, I mean that’s good, yeah. It’s not broken, and I don’t think you even sprained it. Just a little bruised.”

“Nothing eight hours of heels at tomorrow’s photoshoot can’t cure,” Regina said dryly, and Emma felt a small jolt of sympathy at the resignation in her voice.

Unrolling the bandage slowly, Emma started to wind it around Regina’s lower calf, and down over her ankle. As she worked, she cleared her throat before asking, “Can I ask you a question?”

“I’ve no doubt you can, Miss Swan, but I rather think you’re wondering if I will respond.”

Ignoring the correction, Emma made her movements a bit sharper, tightening the bandage. “Why do you do it? Put up with the long hours, the endless prodding, and inane questions?”

Regina watched Emma closely, the flickering candlelight illuminating her brown eyes at the same time they made them even darker, golden specs shimmering in the shadow. “I could ask the same of you,” she said, slowly. “I believe we are both old enough to realize that such a question cannot be so easily answered.”

Emma licked her lips, unable to look away. The bandage was completely unrolled, Regina’s ankle snug in the wrap, and she held the material together with her forefinger. “How does that feel?”

“Adequate,” Regina flexed her foot again, movement limited but possible, and Emma pinned the end of the bandage onto the top of another strip with the metal hook.

“Wow, am I blushing?” Emma teased, her hand resting on the top of Regina’s foot, thumb falling against the ball. “Such a compliment from the talented Miss Mills.”

“For you dear, I suppose it is.” The bathroom grew quiet, candles casting long shadows between them as Emma’s thumb started to make small circles on her skin. “Miss Swan?”

With a small start Emma realized what she’d been doing, and dropped her hand instantly, instead letting it rest on her other leg while she lowered Regina’s foot gently to the floor with her left. “So, um, what happened?”

Regina thinned her lips, and a small look of embarrassment spread across her face for a moment. “I was startled by a,” she hesitated, and glanced over toward the sink a few feet away. “Spider.”

Emma couldn’t help the grin that spread across her entire face. “I’m sorry, you what?”

Narrowing her eyes, Regina put pressure on the edge of the tub, leaning forward. “You heard what I said, now will you give me a hand?” She held out one hand and Emma stood, still smiling.

“You - big-time star, intimidating-as-hell, kick-ass-and-take-names-in-heels  _Regina Mills_  - are afraid of spiders?”

Regina glowered, and clasped Emma’s hand as she helped her stand. “I am not afraid of anything. I said I was  _startled_. The shadow made it appear rather large, and I simply wasn’t expecting to see it as I got out of the bath.”

Licking her lips as a highly inappropriate image popped into her head, Emma put one arm across Regina’s back as she’d done earlier, and steered her toward the door. “Uh huh. Sure thing. Not scared of spiders, I believe you.”

Sighing loudly, Regina tightened the hold she had on Emma’s shoulder as she put weight on her foot. “Very believable, dear.”

“Just like your story,” Emma murmured, knowing with their proximity there was no way Regina would miss what she’d said.  _Speaking of_ , “What kind of bubble bath do you use? You smell amazing,” she leaned her head just a bit closer to Regina’s neck, which was a totally platonic thing to do.

Regina stilled, her grip tightening as she put pressure on her foot again, and looked at Emma out of the side of her eye. “I’m not four, Miss Swan, it wasn’t bubble bath. They were orange blossom bath salts.”

Her fingers tightened again, her nails catching below the thick strap of Emma’s tank and digging in to bare skin.

“Alright, let me just,” and after a brief pause Emma slipped her other arm behind Regina’s knees and lifted her up into her arms.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Regina’s arms flew to Emma’s neck reflexively, tugging her body closer as Emma shifted her further up to rest in the natural cradle of her arms. “Put me down this instant!”

Emma shook her head. “Can’t do it, Regina. I’m your bodyguard - literally here to protect your body - and you’re wincing every step you take.”

Regina’s glare was ten times more serious this close up, and about fifty times as frightening. “If you thought I was joking about firing you–”

“We’re almost to your room, OK? Need anything before bed? A snack, some water?” Emma teased her, taking a few steps detour toward the kitchen area.

“I need you to put me down,” she hissed in response, and Emma felt her fingers curl into the nape of Emma’s neck. It was rather pleasant, and Emma found herself taking ever-so-slightly smaller steps toward Regina’s bedroom.

She felt surprisingly light in her arms, Emma noticed, but at the same time it all felt heavy, solid. The moment felt very strangely  _real_.

Regina fell silent as Emma neared the bedroom door, but she shifted slightly, her breath ghosting across Emma’s bare neck as she exhaled in exaggerated exasperation. “Are we nearly there? It would have been faster to hail a cab from the bathroom.”

Emma snorted, and was grateful to see the door cracked open. Emma was suave, sure, but she didn’t exactly want to test her ability to juggle a full-grown woman in her arms while trying to twist a doorknob.

Kicking the door open with her foot - and just a bit more forcefully than she’d needed to, for bad-ass points of course - Emma smiled down, looking Regina in the eye with a quirked brow as she crossed the threshold. “You know if we were married–”

“I pray you won’t finish that thought.”

Swallowing the rest of her words, Emma stood at the end of the bed, and hesitated. “Miss Swan? You may put me down, now.”

“Which side? Do you have a,” she tilted her chin up towards the headboard.

“I prefer the right,” she muttered, and Emma felt Regina’s fingertips trail over the fine hair at her nape. Walking her around to the proper side, Emma debated how she was going to gently set Regina down.

The problem was solved for her when her boot caught on the edge of the comforter, making her lurch forward and nearly dump Regina on to the bed. She barely caught herself before she smushed one of Hollywood’s biggest stars - not to mention her employer - and landed with one elbow beside Regina’s head, the other braced palm down near her hip.

“Uh, whoops?”

“I should say,” Regina bared her teeth, and reached up for her hair with wince. Pulling the claw clip away, her hair spread out beneath her head. “What a marvelous display of bodyguard work; trying to spare me a modicum of discomfort in my ankle by tossing me to a bed and giving me a head injury,” she dropped the clip to the bedspread, and Emma swallowed deeply.

She’d never been this close to Regina before, and she was  _breathtaking_. Her dark hair spread out around her head, slightly curled from the steam of her bath, and her skin looked perfect, clear and smooth and Emma was nearly certain she would feel like silk.

“Miss Swan?” Emma swallowed quickly, scooting back a bit to give Regina some space.

“Crap, I’m sorry,” she pushed her knee into the mattress, and pulled her elbow back so she was braced by both hands. “I uh, meant well?”

There was a pause, Regina blinking slowly, before a genuine smile started to spread across her lips. Her chest started to shake a bit, and before Emma knew it, Regina was laughing, deeply, her head tilted back further into the pillow.

Emma couldn’t help but join in, Regina’s full laugh deep and infectious, and Emma’s shoulders relaxed with the action, letting her chest fall back forward.

Laughter slowing, Regina looked up at Emma, her brown eyes warmer in the light of the bedroom than they’d been earlier, and Emma felt affection flutter in her stomach, only to settle deep in her chest. “I have no doubt you did, Emma,” Regina licked her lips, a smile still lingering.

Impulsively, Emma ducked her head down, and pressed her lips against Regina’s, firm but chaste. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her heart pounding loudly, and for a horrific moment she thought she might pass out and miss a second of Regina’s lips against hers.

But Regina’s hands slid to her shoulders, curling over their width before she cupped Emma’s face on either side. With a small noise of surprise, Emma leaned into the kiss deeper, sighing into Regina’s lips as they parted.

Time seemed to slow, then, as Emma opened to Regina, their lips sliding apart together as Emma leaned into it, into her. It was everything at once, hot and warm and soft and safe and  _easy_. Emma could feel her arms quaking, unable to lift herself when she’d normally be able to press twice as much.

But the pull of Regina was far stronger, and she sank lower as a delicate palm pressed against the dip between her shoulders.

Reluctantly shifting her lips to the corner of Regina’s mouth, Emma breathed out, and let her breath stir the errant curls that draped over her ear. “Regina,” she sighed, though it sounded like  _wow_.

“Mmm,” Regina murmured against Emma’s jaw, and pressed a small kiss to the delicate flesh there.

“Regina, maybe I should,” Emma pulled back a bit, enough to look Regina in the eyes, her own half-lidded as she took a deep breath. She gestured to the bedroom door, a reminder that Regina had a photoshoot in the morning, and Emma was her employee, for all intents and purposes.

Licking her lips slowly -  _painfully_ slowly - Regina pushed herself up on her elbows until her face was almost even with Emma’s. “And what if I injure my ankle again in the middle of the night, Miss Swan? No, I believe you’ll stay here tonight.”

Emma leaned back looking at her a moment, before reaching out with trembling fingers. Her knuckles brushed against the skin of her cheek and Emma was right;  _silk_. “Well,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I am your bodyguard,” she smiled coyly, and leaned into Regina once more.


	5. pediatrician au

“OK, so who do we have in here?” Emma asked, peeking her head into the exam room.

Catching sight of the little boy on the cushioned table, a book open in his lap, she made an exaggerated frown. Opening the door further, she made a show of consulting the chart in her hand. “I think there must be some mistake.”

“Excuse me?” the boy’s mother asked, standing up straighter where she’d been leaning against the counter, watching her son. At her tone, the boy looked up, too, eyes darting curiously between both women.

“Well, I was supposed to come see a little boy named Henry, but you, sir, look far too wise to be him,” she sighed, even as she shut the door.

“I’m Henry,” he bared a tiny-toothed grin, and set his book down beside him very carefully. Emma smiled at him and glanced over at the mother, practically vibrating with nerves as she leaned against the counter again.

Emma set her chart down on the edge of the bed, and stood in front of Henry, mindful of both his gently kicking legs and his mother’s line of sight - Emma’d dealt with her fair share of mama bears and she knew better than to block the view.

“Are you sure? You look much older than six years old,” she slipped the stethoscope from her neck and held it gently in her palm to warm it up. “Can I see an ID?” Henry giggled again, and Emma looked over her shoulder. “What do you say, mom, can you vouch for him?”

Henry’s mother’s brow furrowed, and she readjusted the jacket that lay draped over her arm in front of her. “Where’s Dr. Whale?”

“He went on sabbatical for a while.” Emma puffed out her cheeks a bit, and turned back to Henry. “I’m covering some of his patients. Do you like animals, Henry?” Henry nodded, his hands clasped in front of him as he looked up at Emma. “Well good, because I’m Dr. Swan. I’m like Dr. Whale’s cousin,” she winked, suppressing a shudder at the idea.

“Birds and whales aren’t cousins,” Henry tilted his chin up, and eyed Emma critically.

“Well they both go in the water, don’t they?”

Henry looked at her for a moment, brows furrowed adorably. “Are you sure you’re a real doctor?” Henry raised one eyebrow and it took everything in Emma not to burst out laughing.

“Geez kid, you don’t mess around, do you?”

“Dr. Swan?” Henry’s mother prompted, and gestured to the instrument in Emma’s hands. “If you’re done with the stand-up perhaps you could examine my son?”

Emma cleared her throat a bit awkwardly and held up the end of the stethoscope for Henry to see. “OK, kid, I guess we should get down to business. You ever see this before?”

“Of course,” he chirped, his feet kicking against the table with a loud thud.

“Good. So you know I’m just gonna use it to listen to your chest, OK?” She pulled the earpieces from her neck and scooted to stand closer to Henry. Putting the chestpiece against his front, she said, “OK, now take a deep breath for me? Good.”

As she slipped the instrument around his chest, she looked over at his mother. “So how’s Henry been lately?”

“He’s been fine,” she answered, words clipped as she watched her son closely. “Energetic, eating well, sleeping.”

“Those are all good to hear,” Emma smiled at her encouragingly, and moved the stethoscope to Henry’s back, slipping it beneath the striped shirt he wore. “You getting a lot of exercise, kid?”

Henry shrugged, and Emma pulled the chestpiece back, and settled his shirt against him once more. “Kinda,” he said softly, and Emma looked to his mother.

“He has asthma, and doesn’t like to use his inhaler,” she explained, and gave Henry a reassuring smile.

Walking over to the drawer where his mother stood, Emma murmured, “‘Scuse me one sec,” and pulled the drawer open as she slid to the side. “OK, kid, now this one is a bit more advanced, have you seen one of these?” she asked, holding up the otoscope.

“Uh huh,” he laid one hand flat on his leg and pointed to his ear. “You can see in here,” he opened his mouth, “ahhh heeee.”

“Man, you’re a little genius.” Emma assembled the instrument and stood at Henry’s side. “You’ve got a pretty special boy here,” she said to his mother as she started to look in Henry’s ear.

“Mama says I’m her little prince,” Henry said, bouncing until Emma stilled him with a gentle hand on the shoulder.

“A prince, huh?” She stepped back and gave a deep bow. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty, your Highness.” Henry giggled, and when Emma walked around to Henry’s other ear she caught sight of his mother, the smallest of smiles twitching at her own lips.

“So, Prince Henry,” Emma looked in the otoscope with one eye, “have you been feeling bad at all lately? Tired, or too hot or too cold?” Emma pulled the speculum back just before Henry shook his head. “Good. How about after Halloween, did you get a tummy-ache from all the candy?”

“A little, but mama did, too.”

Emma smiled, and looked over at his mother as she swapped out the instrument heads. “She did, huh?”

When Emma looked over, the woman stood up straighter and said evenly, “Henry doesn’t like peanuts. I had a few of his Snickers bars,” she quirked a brow, daring Emma to comment.

Shaking her head and holding up one hand to show her she wouldn’t dare, Emma turned back to Henry, looking in the otoscope again. “Now, if you’re a prince, that would make your mama a queen, right?”

“That’s her name!” Henry bounced, excited, and his mother’s eyes fluttered a bit as she tugged her coat closer.

“It is, is it?” Emma looked over at her and asked, “Your name is Queen?”

“Regina,” she said, unamused. “It means queen. Are you quite finished prodding my son?”

“Not yet, your Majesty,” she sat down on the stool in front of Henry. “Can you say ahhhhh for me?”

“ _Ahhhhhhh–_ ” the sound faded as Emma looked through the window of the instrument.

“So Queen Regina, you and the little prince doing anything fun today?”

“Henry asked to go see the aquarium downtown.”

Sitting back on the stool she pulled the otoscope back. “Yeah? That’s pretty cool of your mom, huh?” Henry nodded, rubbing at his face. “Well, kid, lets get you finished up here then, how does that sound?” Emma started to push up the short sleeve of his shirt to his shoulder.

“OK,” Henry nodded, his legs stilling as he sat up straighter, recognizing her preparations.

Emma wheeled the stool over to the counter drawers, before standing up and starting to wash her hands. As she scrubbed them, she looked over and caught sight of Regina, brows furrowed as she clutched her coat tighter to her chest.

Shutting off the water, she dried her hands on a paper towel. “How do you feel about needles, Henry? You feeling nervous at all?” She tossed the towel into the trash and opened a drawer to pull out the syringe and vial. 

Emma heard the shuffling of the paper covering the table as she readied the injection. “It’s OK,” he said softly, and Emma looked over to Regina quickly to see her offering her son a smile that was more wince than anything.

“You’re way braver than I am, kid,” Emma wheeled back over, syringe in one hand. “I’m a baby when it comes to this stuff. I like to have a stuffed animal or something with me when I have to take medicine,” Emma aimed for casual, standing up from the stool. “Do you want anything like that?”

Henry shifted again, and he slid one hand down his dark jeans, his fingers flexing. His face was a bit pale, but there was a look of determination stretched across his features. “No, I can do this,” he tilted his chin up a bit, and Emma nodded before leaning closer to him.

“Oh, of course,” Emma smiled. Gesturing with her head over toward Regina, she stage-whispered, “Your mom looks pretty scared, though. Do you think you could hold her hand to make her feel better?”

Regina licked her lips and took a step closer to Henry. “OK,” Henry said, visibly relaxing at the thought. “For her.”

“What a prince,” Emma held out a hand to Regina. “Your Majesty?” she prompted, and felt her mouth go dry when Regina set her palm gently against Emma’s own.

Her skin was silky smooth, golden, and her nails were perfectly polished with a deep plum color. Fingers twitching, she let Emma’s fingers curl up over the side of her palm, and Emma felt suddenly,  _ridiculously_  like a schoolgirl.

“Dr. Swan?” Regina prompted after a too-long moment, and Emma felt blood rush to her cheeks at being caught in her reverie.

Clearing her throat, Emma lead Regina closer to Henry, and he held out tiny fingers to take his mother’s hand in his own. Emma suppressed the urge to smile at how tightly he seemed to grip her fingers, and looked up to see Regina’s shoulders significantly more relaxed than they’d been a moment ago.

“OK kid, why don’t you tell me about the book you’re reading while I get your arm ready.”

“It’s about about princesses and princes, but they’ve all been cursed,” Henry started to explain, his hand gripping Regina’s tighter on certain words. Emma disinfected the injection site on his shoulder, and nodded along as Henry relayed the tale.

“…all because Snow White told a really big secret,” Henry kicked his legs again, and Emma pressed down slightly harder on the cotton pad.

“Wait, I thought Snow White ate a cursed apple?” she asked.

“Yeah, that happens, too,” Henry assured, and when Emma looked up Regina’s attention was focused on Emma’s actions. As Henry started to talk faster, Emma administered the shot, pulling the syringe back and going to toss it in the receptacle before tossing the cotton pad in the trash.

“That’s it, kid.” Henry stopped talking and looked between Emma and his mother.

“Huh?”

Opening a band-aid, Emma finished up with his arm and covered the small pinprick before tugging his sleeve down. “You’re set to go. Wasn’t so bad, right?” Henry stared up at her in awe, and Regina’s eyes held what appeared to be begrudging respect.

“Yes, I believe that was rather painless, Dr. Swan, thank you,” she dropped her hand from Henry’s back, but continued to hold his hand. “Are you ready to go to the aquarium, Henry?”

“Yeah!” he shouted, and scooted himself to the edge of the table for Regina to help him down.

With Henry back on the ground, Regina started to pull on her coat. “Come, Henry,” she ushered him toward the door, and Emma’s eyes widened.

“Hold up, your Highness! You can’t leave without this,” she pulled a sucker from the jar by the door, and leaned down a bit to hand it to him. Looking up at Regina, Emma handed Henry a second sucker. “I think your mom earned one too, don’t you think?”

Nodding, Henry held out the candy to his mother. “Here, mama.”

“Thank you,” Regina smiled, and opened the exam room door. “Go get your coat, Henry,” she pointed toward the rack down the hall in the lobby, and Henry rushed on out of the room. Turning back to Emma, Regina slid the sucker into her pocket and delicately brushed the hair back from her face. “Thank you, Dr. Swan. You did a remarkable job with him.”

“He’s a cute kid,” Emma shrugged, and slipped her hands into her lab coat pockets. “Besides, it’s not every day I meet a prince, right?”

Regina smiled. “I suppose not.”

After a moment of silence, Emma reached for Henry’s chart, and held it up. “Well, everything looked good, and if you have no concerns, Henry shouldn’t be due for another check-up for about six months.”

“Excellent, thank you.” Regina turned to go, but froze a moment, before adding, “I certainly hope Dr. Whale’s leave was a rather extended one,” her lips twitched in a small smile before she started to walk toward the door. 

“Hey, your Majesty?” Regina looked at her, unamused. “Take it easy on that sucker, I’d hate for you to get another tummy-ache.”

Slipping the candy into her pocket, Regina tilted her head down, teeth bared in a dangerous smile. “I’ll be certain to give our royal doctor a call if I do.”


	6. police au

_It was just one case, it was just one case, it was just –_

“Hey, could you pass the ketchup?”

Regina sighed in irritation. “Must I remind you, Detective Swan, that this is a stakeout, and  _not_  a picnic?”

Emma snorted. “Thank god, ‘cause this would make a terrible picnic.”

“Our suspect could leave that building any moment, and how do you intend to drive with a half-eaten hot dog in your hand?”

“OK first of all, I’m gonna wolf this thing down in like two bites,” Emma eyed it, as if to make sure she could backup her claim. Seemingly satisfied, she added, “Besides, I’m a pro at driving one-handed. Or, no-handed.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed, and they slid from where they’d been trained on the door over to the disheveled woman beside her. “No-handed?”

Emma grinned far too widely for three in the morning. “I have knees, don’t I?”

She shouldn’t have asked. “Well I prefer to make it through this case with all of my limbs intact, so I’d thank you to drive with both hands for the time being.”

“Ten and two, Your Majesty,” Emma said around a mouth of beef-pork-mystery meat, and took a sip from the Big Gulp that had been perched in the cup-holder all night.

“You’ve had an awful lot to drink,” Regina commented as she refocused on the suspect’s building.

“Shouldn’t you be keeping your eyes on the perp and not me?” her tone was teasing, and almost familiar. They’d spent the last few weeks working the case together - the murderer having killed victims in both Queens and Brooklyn - and that unfortunately meant she’d been spending a rather large amount of time with the other detective. Too much, it seemed, if she was feeling this comfortable around her.

She’d need to remedy that. “It’s hard to ignore the loud slurping in such an enclosed space, detective.”

“I can hold it, don’t worry. I won’t ditch you to face this psycho on your own.”

“My hero,” Regina said drolly, but there was a small sort of thrill that fluttered in her stomach at Emma’s claim.

“You, uh, get pretty used to it when your foster brother thinks it’s funny to lock you in a closet for hours.”

Regina’s irritation ebbed suddenly, memories of her own less-than-stellar childhood filling her chest with empathy. But they weren’t friends - not even colleagues, really - and Regina was not about to  _bond_  with a woman she was so desperately close to ridding herself of.

Biting at the inside of her lip a moment, she sat up straighter. “I meant you’ve had a rather large amount of caffeine, and perhaps that is why you find it so incredibly difficult to stay still.”

“Oh,” Emma stopped bouncing her knee as she’d been, and scooted in her seat until her back was pressed against the leather headrest.

Silence filled the dark sedan - well, that and the smell of the hotdog Emma had gotten for Regina, but sat uneaten on the console between them - and Regina felt somehow  _off_ , as though she had missed something important in that moment.

“I heard,” Regina cleared her throat, and shifted a bit, not taking her eyes off of the door across the street. “I heard that you started out in Brooklynn PD, on the beat.”

“I did,” Emma said slowly, a bit suspicious. “You been checking up on me?”

“It’s important to me to know with whom I’m spending my time, detective.” It grew quiet again. “But no, one of the officers in at the 74th mentioned it to me.”

“Ah. They tell you I was trouble?”

Regina smirked, and chanced a glance over to Emma. “Of course.” Emma’s lips twitched, and Regina hesitated a moment before looking back at the door.

“Was there a particular reason you transferred?”

Regina could see Emma shrug out of her peripheral vision. “It was a little too close to home, you know?”

Baring her teeth a bit, Regina debated a moment. “I do,” she offered, and it felt like a second chance at whatever she had missed before.

Emma’s leg started tapping again, and she reached for the nearly-empty cup again, sipping it noisily. “You hoping I come back to Brooklyn? I mean geez, Regina, we’re not even off the case and you’re missing me.”

With a loud snort, Regina turned to look at Emma, uncaring for the moment that Emma was looking right back at her and not for their perp. “I can assure you that is not true,” she raised a brow at Emma’s goofy smile.  _How unprofessional_.

Emma’s smile widened, and she lifted up the quickly cooling hot dog, still wrapped in tin foil. “Yeah, yeah. I can tell when I’m getting under someone’s skin, Regina. I think you’re gonna miss me.”

“Unlikely, dear,” she scoffed, but took the proffered food, opening it as she looked back at the building.  


	7. teachers au

Emma heard the tell-tale  _click, click, click_  on the linoleum floor of the hallway and closed her eyes tight. She did  _not_ have the energy to deal with Regina today, not after spending all day monitoring 30 fifth-graders at the aquarium.

“Miss Swan, we need to talk.”

Groaning loudly, Emma leaned back in her chair and turned to face the woman standing in the door of her classroom. “Now?”

“Yes  _now_ ,” she said (rather mockingly, in Emma’s opinion), and shut the door as she stepped across the threshold.

“Look, Regina, it’s been a long day, and I really just want to go home.”

“Well then this should be a short conversation,” Regina raised a brow in challenge, and Emma leaned forward, sighing in resignation.

“Fine,” she clasped her hands together and set them on her desk, before leaning forward. “Shoot.”

Regina’s lashes fluttered in irritation, but she pulled one of the nearby chairs over to Emma’s desk and sat down. If she was anyone else, Emma would have commented on how  _ridiculous_  she looked sitting in a chair sized for a ten-year-old, but this was Regina, a very clearly  _pissed off_ Regina, and, well, Emma figured it was probably not the best idea to poke the bear.

She snorted. Regina glared.

Just because it was a bad idea didn’t mean Emma could help herself.

“So, uh, what do we need to discuss?”

Regina crossed her legs, her less-formal field-trip pants still looking out of place compared to Emma’s jeans and sweater. “Your behavior with the children.”

All amusement Emma had found in the brief moments before vanished, and her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” she felt her knuckles turn a bit white as she clasped her hands tighter.

“It’s inappropriate, it fosters a bad environment, teaches them poor behavior, shows a flagrant disrespect for authority, and it’s downright insulting.” Regina was stoic as she spoke, but Emma caught sight of her jaw twitching with suppressed anger, and her eyes flickering in something far-too-close to hurt.

She didn’t know Regina well, having only taught beside her this year (and to be honest she preferred to team up with Ruby’s fifth-graders whenever multiple class events happened), but there was something about the woman that got under her skin whenever they were required to be in the same room.

“What is?” Emma prompted, not following.

Regina pursed her lips in irritation. “You, having the children…” Regina scooted forward in her seat a bit, “ _mock_  me.”

“What?” Emma laughed, brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Regina shifted again in her seat and bit out, “Ms.  _Chills_?”

“Wha–Oh.” Pulling her hands apart, Emma put them flat down on her desk and licked her lips. “That was, just a joke I made one day.”

“That I was cold?” Regina snorted, “Yes, how clever. And then you encouraged your students to mock me during their science classes, which is highly inappropriate, not to mention incredibly juvenile.”

“They’re ten, Regina.”

“I meant you, Miss Swan.” Emma’s lips thinned. She hadn’t meant it to be mean, it was just teasing, at least that had been how she’d meant it; all in the name of friendly rivalry, right? “Having your students call me names is rather reminiscent of their elementary-age flirting, honestly.”

Emma’s cheeks pinked, and she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She took interest in a deep groove across the surface of her desk, and suddenly felt very, very small.

_“Oh.”_

Emma shut her eyes. That hadn’t been her intention, not really. She’d felt  _something_  around Regina, something that made her itchy, and warm, and just a little bit nervous. But she’d thought it had been irritation and just maybe a bit of admiration.

Regina was a great teacher, if a bit strict.

“Yes, well,” Regina stood up slowly, running her hands over the non-existent creases in her slacks. “I suggest you sit your students down on Monday and discuss how inappropriate their - and your - behavior has been.”

Emma felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment and confusion as she nodded, and looked up at Regina, standing with her hand on the doorknob to leave. “Yeah, I’ll uh, talk to them. I’m sorry, Regina.”

“Thank you,” Regina pursed her lips, her eyes softening. “I’ll see you on Monday, Miss  _Yawn_ ,” her eyes sparkled with mischief for a moment before she slipped out of Emma’s classroom. 


	8. wrong number au

“Hello?”

_“Hey, so do you want pepperoni, or sausage? Or I could do cheese, if you’re feeling boring. But I’m gonna put gummi bears on my slices and I don’t wanna hear a word about it.”_

Regina’s eyes narrowed in confusion as the person on the other line spoke, and she leaned back from the laptop open on her desk. “Excuse me?”

Silence.

_“Uh, Ruby?”_

Regina’s lips thinned. “I believe you have the wrong number, dear,” Regina started to pull the phone away from her ear, her face warm from the bizarre call at the end of the day.

_“Oh, shit! I’m sorry, I must have–”_

“Called the wrong number, as I said,” Regina’s brow quirked at the flustered voice on the other end.

The woman laughed, and the sound was low and hearty in her ear. Regina’s cheeks grew warmer.  _“Yeah, I suppose I should slow down when I dial, huh?”_

“Mmm,” Regina murmured in agreement, and leaned back farther in her chair. “Perhaps you should eat a bit less sugar, from the sound of things.”

More laughter, softer this time, like the woman was less embarrassed for some reason. More comfortable, too. _“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it, you know?”_

“I don’t believe I do.”

 _“Really? You never had candy on pizza? Not even as a kid?”_  Regina shifted in her chair, the conversation having suddenly taken such an uncomfortable detour.

“No, and even my ten-year-old son wouldn’t find that appealing.”

_“Well, I find that hard to believe. Unless you’re one of those moms that cooks all the time.”_

Regina bristled at the words, a trace of challenge between them.  “Of course I am,” she bit out, her fingers gripping the arm of her office chair.

 _“Woah, I didn’t mean anything by it, I don’t even know you, lady.”_ There was a pause, and Regina’s grip loosened on her phone, wondering why she was still on the line with the stranger.  _“So, uh, you cook for anyone else? Like your husband?”_

“I don’t believe that’s any of your concern. As you said, we don’t even know each other.”

 _“I’m Emma. And you’re…”_ There was a lengthy silence. _“'Unknown caller’.”_  Emma cleared her throat and said with a wince,  _“I was hoping that would have been a little smoother, but it seems you’re not listed,”_  she chuckled, uncomfortably this time.

“That would be correct, dear. And for just this reason, in fact.”

 _“You get a lot of hot women hitting on you over the phone?”_  Regina sat up straighter, eyes flickering toward the empty desk outside of her office door. What had started out so innocently - if a little bizzare - suddenly felt illicit, and she turned her chair away from the open door.  _“I’m sorry, that was…I don’t even know what that was, to be honest. I just…I’m sorry I bothered you.”_

The line disconnected, and the gentle humming of the cell phone echoed too loud in her ear.

Regina pulled it down, and after a brief moment of hesitation, she pulled up her call log, pressing the last number.

_“Uh, hello?”_

“I just thought I should let you know that I don’t.” She lowered her voice, and crossed her ankles nervously, her heel scraping against the tile floor.

_“Huh?”_

“I don’t get a lot of women hitting on me over the phone.”

 _“Yeah?”_ There was a smile on the other woman’s face, Regina could just tell.  _“I think you left out the word 'hot’, by the way.”_

“Yes, well, that has yet to be seen.” Regina sniffed, and caught sight of the clock on the wall. “And that was a horrid pick up line, I might add.”

Emma laughed again, and Regina started to shut down her computer, needing to pick Henry up at Dr. Hopper’s shortly.

_“So, uh, does this mean I can call you up for pizza for real, sometime?”_

Regina felt a smile pulling at her lips. “If there are no gummi bears,” she paused, “perhaps.”


End file.
